


Anodyne

by pressedinthepages



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), awwww
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: Eskel patches you up after an injury, leading to an interesting conversation.
Relationships: Eskel (The Witcher)/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Anodyne

**Author's Note:**

> Reader Request [ I was wondering if you could do a gender neutral Eskel/Reader where one is hurt and the other is fussing over them? Your choice on who is who] I love a good hurt/comfort, and i went back and forth with who i wanted in which role, but im happy with how it turned out :)

_noun. latin. serving to lessen pain; soothing._

“So, exactly how many times have I told you NOT to follow me into a monster den?” Eskel asks, looking up from where he is carefully running a wet rag over the wound in your arm. His voice is dripping with disappointment, but his eyes shine with barely restrained worry.

“I think I may have lost count, love.”

“And yet?”

“And yet, here we are.” Your voice grows taut when Eskel begins to stitch along the gash in your arm.  _ Godsdamned foglets,  _ you think as each stitch pulls into your skin, Eskel’s fingers delicate where they rest.

Eskel is quiet while he works, tying off the final knot with well-practiced dexterity. He turns and fishes in his pack for a moment, emerging with a small potion bottle. You crook an eyebrow and shift a little ways away, not trusting any of his potions for a damn minute. You know that even just a sniff of some of them could kill you, let alone drinking one straight down your gullet.

“Relax,” Eskel murmurs, placing his free hand along your thigh, squeezing gently. “It’s just vodka. It’ll help keep the wound clean.” He looks up at you, the twin golden suns of his eyes mesmerizing as they hold your gaze. You scoot back close to him, letting him pour the clear liquid generously over your arm. 

“Ah, fuck!” you hiss, tears welling in your eyes as the vodka burns down the length of the wound. Your hand finds Eskel’s on your thigh and grips onto it like a vice, your nails digging into his skin as you grit your teeth, trying to will the pain away. 

Eskel won’t let himself look into your eyes, focusing only on the task at hand. As the vodka runs clear he gently pats a clean cloth over the length of the cut. The foglet had tried to grab you, but you had turned at the last second, its claw digging into the meat of your arm rather than your heart. The look that had been in your eyes would haunt Eskel for the rest of his days, the instant pain and terror that spilled into your spirit sending an instant wave of adrenaline through him. He had missed the way you had turned to him, seeking him in your most vulnerable moment. Instead, he had dispatched the beasts with cold precision, his movements fuelled by the natural instinct to protect you. 

Eskel had closed himself off then, just as he is doing now. Emotions won’t help in the middle of a fight, and they won’t help him now. His hands are slow and calculated, wrapping another clean scrap of cloth around the wound to staunch the flow of blood. The scent overwhelms Eskel’s nose, the metallic tang settling over your natural scent, one that typically calms his heart and his mind. 

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper, startling him from his spiraling thoughts. “There’s no need to fuss over me…”

“What else would you have me do?” Eskel tilts his head as he narrows his eyes, “Would you have me watch as you bleed out, or leave you here to die?” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to watch my back as well as your own, you’ve already got so much on your shoulders-”

“Please,” Eskel cuts you off, rising on his knees between your thighs so his eyes are level with yours. “I-hmm. Watching after you, keeping you safe, it feels like a second nature to me. I can’t bear to see you hurt, especially not because of me. I know my life, and I know the danger that comes along with it. You,” he brushes your hair back behind your ear, reveling in the soft way that your eyes flutter and your cheeks flush, “are worth every scar that I have ever earned. I only wish that I could take this pain from you, and I hate that there is not a damn thing that I can do to help you.”

Eskel is close enough to you to share a breath, his nose brushing lightly against yours with every swell of the breeze. You cannot help the smile that pulls at your lips as you raise your uninjured arm to rest your hand against the rough planes of the scar on his cheek. “I can think of one thing that may help me,” you whisper, your voice as light as a feather drifting through a cool summer evening. 

Eskel’s brow furrows in confusion, his eyes betraying how desperately he wishes to rid you of your pain. “And what would that be?”

“Kiss me.”

Eskel blinks, his mind immediately ceasing the circles that it had been running up until this point. He hears your heart skip a beat as it thrums loudly in his ears and notices the way that your pupils have dilated, despite being in almost full sun. Your lips look plush and soft when he glances down to them, and he can feel his own heart thumping hard under his skin. He leans forward just the slightest bit, carefully offering you an opportunity to change your mind.

You, however, have no such designs. You close the distance between you, pressing your lips to Eskel’s as your eyes fall closed. Eskel’s hands squeeze where they rest on your thighs and you feel him sink into the kiss. You pull back from him, worried that you had pushed too far, but he surges forward to catch your lips once more. 

You moan into his mouth as he gently parts your lips. As your tongue carefully traces along the shape of Eskel’s lips it catches in the little notch that his scar has pulled taut he  _ growls,  _ a low promise of storms in the night. The sounds settles deep in your core, your hands moving to tangle in his hair. 

Your body moves too quickly for your mind though, a sharp pain surging up your arm at the sudden change in position. You gasp, unprepared for the stinging needles of pain that now have made their way back to the forefront of your mind. Eskel immediately stands and scoops you up into his arms, chuckling when you wrap your uninjured arm around his shoulder. He deposits you onto Scorpion’s back before taking the reins in his hand, leading you back to town to find a proper healer. 

“Thank you, Eskel,” you whisper, just barely loud enough for him to hear over the wind and the clopping of Scorpion’s hooves on the dirt path. 

Eskel only hums, but by the way that the tips of his ears redden and his lip pulls at the corner, you know that he will always be there, by your side.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @pressedinthepages


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